


forever and ever

by orphan_account



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - Afterlife, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blow Jobs, Canon-Typical Violence, Hell, M/M, Topping from the Bottom, Unhealthy Relationships, smut but not the focus of the story its really short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:33:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23906974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: two murderers spend the rest of eternity together. hell isn't fiery with the devil; no, it's being stuck with somebody else for forever, and ever, and ever.heavily inspired by the play "no exit" by jean-paul sartre
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 5
Kudos: 78





	forever and ever

**Author's Note:**

> pls help i have over 50 missing homework assignments

The hallway was extensive and stretched as far as the eye can see. Carpets a light cream color--Akira is sure if he reached down they would be rough and cause quite the burn on his knees--walls a dull chartreuse, and dim lighting. In fact, the ceiling light above Akira flickered a bit. Despite the obvious length of the hall, doors were patterned on both sides and repeated down as long as the hallway did. Each door mimicked the other; same knob shape, texture of the wood, and the light brown color. 

Behind him, was the exact same. He squinted his eyes, tilted his head, then absentmindedly reached up and fiddled with a strand of his thick black hair. How exactly did he arrive here? 

Ah. That’s it. He  _ died.  _

Well, that’s unfortunate. It didn’t exactly bother him, however. Everybody died anyway and he is sure he is right now residing in heaven. He was a good person, after all, always trying to do what is right. He clasped his hands together in front of him, glancing around once more, then reached for the first door to his left. 

“ _ That’s  _ not your room,” a man’s voice interrupted.

Akira whirled around, startled. An old man stood in front of him, with a large nose and sunken eyes. He was bald! Akira held back an abrupt laugh. Who’d think that an seemingly ethereal being would be bald? Akira kept his hands clasped. “So I do have a room?”

The man was incredibly hunched over, his back a hump. “Yes, inmate--”

“Inmate?”

“--Your room is to your  _ right.” _

Akira spun on his heel to look to his right and reached distantly at the door. It drew him in and then laughed at him mockingly. Looking at it, in all honesty, sent a wave of unidentifiable emotions over him and knocked him back. He watched the man out of the corner of his eye. “So this is my room?”

Curtly, the man nodded. “You will reside here.”

“...Who are you?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Akira grinded his teeth together. “Does...everybody get a room?”

“Yes.”

“Do you have a name? What are you, an angel? I’m dead, right?”

“You can call me Igor, but I doubt you’ll be seeing much of me again.”

That sent a shiver up Akira’s spine. “I won’t? Why not?”

“How about you go inside?”

Akira glowered at the man, but he stared back unblinkingly. Akira had the overwhelming urge to stab him or something. His fingers twitched, but he sensed an power exuding from the man so he instead looked back to the doorknob.

Everything around him seemed to disappear as he wrapped his fingers around the door, staring at the cold metal of the knob before slowly twisting it and opening the door. 

It was a singular room. There was nothing of interest, either. It looked like a simple lounge room. There was a couch with two chairs symmetrical to each side, both leather, and two end tables next to each chair. On each end table was a stout lamp. The walls were the same horrendous shade of green and the carpet the same rough texture and cream color. To Akira’s left, beside the doorway, was a table with a rotary phone. A rotary phone! Akira could almost laugh in disbelief.

Akira glanced back at the man who was standing there and staring. He took an awkward step forward and looked around before perusing the area. There was also a bookshelf with books on there he didn’t recognize. They were in a language he couldn’t even comprehend, symbols he had never seen before in his life. “Are these even in a human language?”

“No.”

“Then how am I supposed to read them?”

“You don’t.”

Akira gnawed at his lip. He doesn’t suppose he can bleed in heaven, can he? “What is this room?”

“Where you will reside.”

“You are very cryptic,” sighed Akira before he leaned against the bookcase and studied Igor. “I didn’t expect this to be the afterlife. I expected something more...Ah, I dunno, cool?”

Igor shook his head. “Use the phone if you need anything.” And with that, he left, shutting the door behind him.

Akira gaped at Igor. “Hey, old man!” He called, running to the door and yanking on it. Panic filled him, dizzying. He couldn’t open the door! “Fuck! Hey, open this goddamn door, I have questions!”

After a couple moments of yanking and tugging and kicking, he realized his efforts were fruitless so he staggered to the couch and collapsed onto it. He slouched in it, feet kicked forward lazily. He didn’t realize he could get tired in the afterlife. He feels as if he hadn’t slept in years. Is this God’s treatment of good-doers? Good riddance!

Suddenly, the door opens and Akira jumps to his feet. In walks Igor and a man, about Akira’s age, who has large doe eyes and a surprised expression on his face once his maroon eyes fell onto Akira. He blinked, then looked over at Igor. 

“I didn’t expect there to be other people,” commented Akira. “I get roomies then?”

Igor ignores him and looks to the brunet that has entered. “Use the phone if you need anything.” Then left as soon as he entered.

The boy’s jaw gapes and he immediately begins beating at the door. “Wait,” he calls. “I still have questions! I  _ need  _ answers!”

“There’s no use,” interrupts Akira. “I tried already. The door is impossible to beat down.”

Even though his gaze was still fixated on the door, the boy stopped his banging and kicks. Instead, he breathed deeply, his entire body rising and falling. “What an ill-mannered place. The walls are absolutely horrid,” he muttered. His arms crossed in front of him, but Akira could tell they were muscular.

“I agree. You think the afterlife could afford maybe some nicer aesthetics, yeah?” Akira fell back against the couch once more, arms back against the couch as one thumb rubbed against the leather. “Cheap, fake leather too.”

The man didn’t respond and began dialling at the rotary phone, tapping his foot as if he were impatient.

“You have all the time in the world, no need to be impatient.”

No response, but Akira noticed his grip on the phone tighten.

“What’s your name?” Tried Akira again.

The man slammed the phone back down, but finally turned around. He plastered a warm smile on his face, eyebrows raised and eyes wide and welcoming. “Oh! I am so very sorry. I didn’t hear you at all.” He took a small step forward. “I completely forgot my manners, my sincerest apologies--this is a rather unique situation, don’t you think? My name is Goro Akechi.” He stuck his hand out.

Akira leaned forward in his seat to give Akechi a small, firm shake. He pulled back and fell against the couch cushions again. That was a complete 180, but Akira is a good man, there’s no reason he’d be roomed with somebody awful of course. He crossed his legs. “Nice to meet you, Akechi.” He smiled. “I’m Akira Kurusu.”

“Nice to meet you too, Kurusu.” Akechi thoughtfully placed a gloved hand on his chin, looking around the room with inquisitive eyes. “So, we are dead then.” It wasn’t a question, but a heavy statement.

  
“Yeah.” Akira shifted. “I don’t think he’s gonna come back.”

Akechi sighed, rubbing at his face but sat down at a chair. “I don’t suppose.” He looked at Akira, studying him. 

Akira squirmed. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

Akechi narrowed his eyes. “I’m just wondering who you are...To be roomed with  _ me…” _

“‘With you?’” echoed Akira. 

Akechi shook his head, a smile plastering his face again. “Don’t worry about it. We have all the time in the world, let us get to know each other! How old are you?”

“I’m seventeen.”

Akechi clapped his hands together happily. “I don’t suppose you’re a second-year? How wonderful, I’m eighteen and a third-year! I wouldn’t mind if you called me senpai, but simply Akechi is fine.”

Akira’s eye twitched. This guy is….kind of obnoxious. “How about Gowo?”

“G-Gowo?” Akechi’s eye twitched this time. How delightful!

“....Anyway, Gowo--”

“Please do not call me that horrific name.”

“-- _ Goro,  _ when did you die?”

“Right to the point, hmm?” Goro thought for a moment, eyes fluttering shut. “Yesterday morning. Yes. At around...3 A.M.”

“That’s early. Die in your sleep?”

Goro shrugged, and Akira knew to leave it at that. “How about you?”

“Last week. I ran into the middle of the street,” Akira lied.

Goro’s eyes widened a fraction. “How...Plain.”

“Plain?”

“I expected something more, I suppose. Perfectly reasonable death, I guess.”

“How did you die?”

“Where are you from, Kurusu--Or should I use Akira?”

“Akira is fine. I’m from Inaba, but I moved recently due to circumstances, so I died in Shibuya.”

Goro leaned forward in his seat. “Shibuya! How fascinating. I’m born and raised. Do you suppose that’s why we’re roomed together?”

Akira knew better. That was not the reason. “Most likely,” he lied.

Goro nodded. “Yes, yes, that makes sense. People of similar cultures would be better to get along, and we want people who get along, yes?”

“Of course.”

Goro nodded, pursing his lips. He seemed more like he was trying to rationalize something to himself than to Akira. “So what is your story? I know how you’ve died, but what’s your life? Was it happy? What kind of person were you? Mother? Father?” With every inquiry, Goro leaned closer and closer, arms braced on his knees. 

“Does it matter?” Akira frankly didn’t feel like sharing his entire life story.

“Ah, that’s not fun--but I’ll respect your decision. Perhaps you’ll open up if I share mine?”

Akira didn’t respond.

Not wavering nor seeming bothered in the slightest, Goro carried on: “I was an orphan. My mother killed herself after whoring herself out--” Akira jolted at the harsh choice of words. Maybe there was more than this calm and kind persona he was faced with. “--every night to men. I was sent to the bath house every time and she’d come back. Feed me a piece of chocolate and I’d pretend I saw nothing. I suppose she couldn’t handle her bastard son anymore--I never knew my father--and then I came home from school and she shot herself in the head.”

Akira gasped, but he didn’t say anything. What could he say? Offer words of solace? He was never good at emotions, but he was a good listen. So that’s what he did.

Goro fiddled with his black gloves, fixing his cuffs of an unrecognizable uniform with a shake of his head. “I was passed from foster home to foster home. Behavioral issues. Ha.” Goro suddenly looked up from his hands, making sharp eye contact with Akira. Akira wanted to look away, but found himself sinking into the fiery hot gaze. “When I was around fourteen years old I could get myself on my feet...I made a name for myself. I’m a rookie detective, actually--I appeared on TV a handful of times...I got shot while on a job.”

Akira had a feeling Goro was leaving quite a chunk out of his story, but he supposes he has the rest of eternity to probe him. He uncrossed his legs and leaned forward as well with a tilt of his head. “Any friends? I’m surprised I didn’t hear of you.” Now that Akira thinks of it, he actually might have heard of Goro Akechi. “Where’d you go to school?”

“Oh, no I didn’t have any time in particular for  _ friends,  _ I was far too busy. I went to school in Kosei, I don’t suppose you’ve heard of it.”

Eyebrows shot up, Akira said, “one of my friends went to Kosei! He was in the fine arts department...Are you an artist by any chance?”

Goro chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m afraid I lack in the drawing department. I just went because I was an honor student--no more, no less. Who was your friend?”

Akira took a deep breath, shaky. “Yusuke Kitagawa, you know him?”

Goro’s mouth opened, but he didn’t look surprised. “Oh? It makes sense that somebody like you would know him. Perhaps our fates are intertwined.” He chuckled lightly, gesturing around them. “I can’t say Kitagawa and I were close. I merely only knew him because I investigated him.”

Akira swallowed dryly. Why was he so nervous? He was dead, there was nothing to fear anymore. “Really?”

Humming, Goro straightened his back and went back to his thinking pose. “His mentor mysteriously turned up dead after being exposed for abuse--Kitagawa is the main suspect. The very fascinating part was how his death mirrored another scale of deaths. I was investigating the serial ‘justice’ murders of Shibuya.” 

Suddenly, the breath was knocked out of Akira. He felt dizzy and as if he was going to pass out at any moment. He dug his nails into the palm of his hand, but other than that he didn’t show any signs of being ruffled by Goro’s story. “The Phantoms.”

Now that caught Goro’s attention. “You know of them then, hm?”

“Of course. They were everywhere on TV.” 

“Wonderful! Now, let me pick your brain for a second--”

“Oh boy.”

“--What did you think of the Phantoms? Their executions, the calling cards, all of it. Tell me everything.” 

So it seems Goro can be aggressive in other ways when he needs to. Oh well, it’s not like Akira can receive the death penalty! He cleared his throat, straightened his glasses, looked Goro right in the eye and answered, “They were justice itself. They were needed. The public loved them...They were like  _ gods. _ ” 

Goro was staring at him and it suddenly grew very silent. Akira almost felt embarrassed about his outburst, but it needed to be said. The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Akira opened his mouth to perhaps remedy the situation before Goro snickered. One giggle. Two giggles. Then, he threw his head back as he laughed loudly. It boomed throughout the room and it was almost dry and raspy, a complete 180 from his light and airy voice. It only fed Akira’s growing curiosity about Goro’s secrets. 

Finally, after a couple moments of rambunctious laughter, Goro wiped a tear from his eye. “Thank you Akira. I was not expecting that. That was quite a bold statement you took! Gods, you say? What if I told you I don’t believe in any God?”

“Well that would certainly contradict our situation.”

Goro waved him off. “There can still be no god and an afterlife. Besides, could you believe that Igor man really was a God? I say no!”

“Yeah, he was bald. Would God really be bald?”

Goro ignored him. “You have such a unique outlook. Please continue to speak with me for the rest of our days here. Eternity. Yes!”

Damn this guy was obnoxious. What is he trying to get at? Akira leaned back again, fingers twitching to spin his phone or pencil. Goro is obviously highly intelligent and this personality of his is so faked, what can Akira do to weed out his other side? “So, you believe the Phantoms weren’t justice?”

“Oh no, of course not. They murdered people, Akira.”

“But they were criminals. Abusers. Rapists. Murderers. Do you not believe an eye for an eye? You’re a detective, Goro, shouldn’t you believe in repercussions?”

Goro looked positively giddy, clasping his hands with blown eyes, pupils dilated. “You know what Hegel has said? Thesis, antithesis, and synthesis. You truly are the antithesis to my thesis--I wonder what our third final conclusion will be?” Goro squirmed in his seat. Akira wanted to back away. What the fuck is wrong with this guy. “This delights me so. Akira, please allow me to resolve our discussion together and find our synthesis.”

“...Okay.” Akira rolled his shoulders. Maybe his roomie is a little weird with this kind of stuff, what’s it matter? He did say he had no friends. “I will not change my stance. They did more than the cops ever did.”

“But how do you decide who lives and who dies? What kind of...arrogant, high moral ground do you --ah, the Phantoms, reside on to make them believe they can take the law into their own hands?” Goro shook his head. “It’s barbaric. It’s murder, Akira.”

Akira bristled. “They destroyed lives, dammit! Do these victims lives not matter to you?”

“Of course they do, of course. Anyhow, I also want to ask you how you think they’ve managed to escape. Numerous victims, this goes into the 50s, of all their murders. None of them got caught...Except their leader.” Goro’s eyes lowered and he smiled at Akira like he just learned a secret. “Tell me, Akira, how did the Phantoms get away with all these murders? Please, I’m so curious about what you think. C’mon.” At this point, Goro had risen from his chair and had approached Akira’s couch. 

Akira crawled away, back against the far arm as he glanced at Goro. He tried to keep a calm facade, but damn is Goro pushy! Goro crawled on top of the couch, looking down at Akira with an almost downright cruel grin. “Come on, Akira. Come on. Tell me! Tell me tell me tellmetelltellmetellmetellmetellme--”

“ENOUGH!” cried out Akira, hands lifting up to cover his ears. “Shut up! Shut the FUCK up!” 

Silence. The weight on the couch had lifted as well, signalling Goro had lifted. Akira didn’t even realize he screwed his eyes shut. He counted to ten before opening his eyes again. Goro wasn’t anywhere to be found. Was he going mad? Was he simply a figment of his imagination? 

Slowly, Akira turned his head and jumped. Goro was behind him, face hovering right next to his ear. He whispered, “Akira, why did you kill yourself?”

Akira fell off the couch with a loud yelp. He scrambled to his feet, pointing at Goro accusingly. “How do you know that?”

Goro shrugged. “Why did you lie to me?”

“Because! I’m a good person. I shouldn’t be here,” he insisted. “I don’t know who you are, but you’re probably fucked up to hell and back--I can tell. I’m good. This is all wrong. I’m good. I did everything right. I’m a  _ god.” _

“Oh shut it with your self righteousness! I tried to pry things out of you kindly, but I suppose this isn’t how things roll when you’re dead and in hell.”

Akira grit his teeth. “Hell? I don’t deserve to be in hell.”

“You don’t deserve to be in hell?” Goro’s eyes flashed. “You do not deserve to be in hell? Oh, what a goddamn JOKE. You’re a piece of shit, you probably deserve to be here more so than me.”

Akira went quiet. He tugged at his sleeves, fiddled with a loose thread of his shirt, then fixed his glasses despite them not needing any fixing. “I see,” he breathed. “If this is hell...I see why we were placed together.”

Goro crossed his arms, stiff posture relaxing. He must no longer want to keep up appearances. Akira will pry more out of him later. “This is hell, yeah?”

Goro shrugged. “Yes, I’ve assumed. You’re a murderer, you can assume whatever you want about me, but I’m also fucked. What’s your point?”

“Notice how there’s no torturer? No devil with horns? No, only a man named Igor who simply escorted us. Where’s the fire? Where’s the pain? In fact, the room is quite a nice temperature.”

Goro’s mouth formed an ‘o.’ “Ah. You’re less of an idiot than I thought. Makes sense for the leader of The Phantoms to have a brain, I see.”

“We’re stuck together. That’s our hell.”

Goro cackled. “How delightful! Of course. I’m not surprised. No, whatever the creator is--they are quite cruel. This makes complete sense.”

Akira sighed, collapsing back down on the couch and rubbed at his temples. “How’d you know?”

“Hm?”

“That I was the leader.”

“Lucky guess. Your sort of...God complex gave it away. Not only did the actions of The Phantoms give away their hypocrisy and self righteousness, but there were a lot of bible verses in your calling cards. I may have been a fraud who put up a charade, but I was still a detective. Don’t bother giving me your life story anymore, I don’t give a shit.” A sigh. “I already figured out what I wanted to.”

Akira bit back a retort and instead tilted his head back with a groan. “So, let’s defy God then.” 

“How would that work, my dear murderer?”

Akira flipped him off without looking at him. “Don’t talk to me.”

“Oh?”

Akira looked at him out of the corner of his eye. Goro wasn’t even looking at him, he was thumbing through the pages of a book. “We’re meant to annoy each other for eternity, yes? That’d work if we just didn’t talk to each other. We can just be in timeout and serve our sentence. I can stew in my thoughts for a long time ya know.”

No response.

“Goro?”

Still no response.

“Does that work?”

Ignored.

“Goro!”

“Hm? I thought you wanted us to ignore each other? You fool, you’re forgoing your own plan.”

Akira sighed and went silent. He listened to Goro thumbing through the pages of his book, despite it being unreadable. He closed his eyes and thought back to his life.

The first murder was Suguru Kamoshida. It was done with Ann and Ryuji. If he was going to miss anybody, it would definitely be them. They were hesitant at first. Very hesitant. The initial plan was to blackmail and expose him, but after he raped numerous of the girls and drove Suzui Shiho to suicide, neither of them seemed to care anymore.

They found a boy with a wealth of information. Everything about him was mysterious and perhaps one of Akira’s biggest regrets was not getting to know the boy, Morgana, more. He taught them how to pick locks and all the way down to commiting murder.

Ann did the final blow. Blood splattered all over her cat mask and she looked absolutely freed. She laughed and cackled and giggled as Kamoshida wet himself before he died. Ryuji smashed both of Kamoshida’s legs to bits before it happened.

Akira? He didn’t do the actual murder. He stood back, watching it. He hadn’t even seen a dead body before that night. Then, he truly was an innocent country boy. He even had to look away.

That changed with every murder, however. Akira was angry. These criminals deserved punishment, and the law certainly wasn’t going to do jack shit. No, this was Akira’s responsibility. He was the only one who could save everybody. He was special. He was unique. He was the leader of The Phantoms-- He was  _ god.  _

O, how the mighty have fallen!

Akira rubbed his hands over his face once more. It was December and they were attempting their biggest murder yet-- Shido Masayoshi. It was futile, however. He was caught and sacrificed himself for his team mates. He was certain he could escape. He thought God would save him! 

God wasn’t there.

Before Shido’s men could torture him, Akira swallowed the cyanide pill Morgana got him and quickly died. Now he is here, trapped with Goro.

“Akira?”

“...Yeah?”

“Your most recent target was Masayoshi Shido, correct?”

“You already know the answer.”

“Ah, I suppose I do.” The flip of pages and the light shut of a book. “I was quite happy you were caught. I wanted to finish the job myself.”

Akira’s eyes shot open and Goro was in front of him, kneeling between Akira’s legs from the floor as he looked up at Akira. He gripped Akira’s knees tightly. “I wanted to be the one to murder that son of a fucking bitch.”

Akira wasn’t ruffled in the slightest. “Why?”

“I told you how I am an orphan. I am the bastard child of Shido. He ruined my fucking life, and I had to make him pay.” Goro’s eyes narrowed. “And you ruined it.”

“...How?”

“I was so close to gaining his trust, but then you just had to go and kill all of his men! Really made the job harder for me, yanno. And then I failed to kill the leader of The Phantoms? Ah, the humiliation!” Goro leaned closer until his breath was hot against Akira’s face. “You have the prettiest face.”

“Uh...Thanks.”

Goro rose before quickly grabbing a hold of it, gripping tightly onto Akira’s chin and yanking him forward. Akira was pulled up to his feet, eye to eye with Goro. Their breaths mingled and Akira’s heart pounded. “Because I failed my job too many times, Shido decided to end  _ my  _ life. Shot me right in the head.” With his other hand, Goro mimed a finger gun motion and held it against Akira’s head. “Pchaw!”

Akira couldn’t find it in him to pull away. 

Goro’s grip on him loosened before his tight grip on Akira’s jaw slowly went to his cheek. The finger gun moved to cup his other cheek. Goro was nose to nose with Akira, staring at him. Akira couldn’t fight the flush in his face. Goro sighed, breath washing over his face. They just stood there, Akira unsure if it would set Goro off if he moved away. Something tells him he’s one that’ll snap at any moment.

“Your eyes are a very unique shade of grey! I’ve seen blue eyes that look grey...But never a shade such as this. Like coal.”

“Yours are like, red.”

“And your hair. So black and thick…” Goro brought one hand up to run it through Akira’s hair before bringing it back down again. “You’re very lovely. Including your opinions and personality--oh you’re absolutely enthralling. Intoxicating!”

Akira blinked. “Are- Are you attracted to me?”

Goro hummed. “Yet another sin, yes?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Akira blinked again. “Are you  _ gay _ ?”

“I am attracted to a man, but you’re the only person I’ve ever been attracted to.” Goro tilted his head, squishing Akira’s cheeks. “Does that make me gay?”

“Uh yeah. I’m pretty sure that’s like, the definition of it.”

Goro slowly nodded. “Then I’m gay.” Then, almost shyly, Goro hastily asked, “are you?”

Akira shook his head and Goro’s face dropped. He rested his hands on Goro’s hand, cupping his own face. “But I am attracted to men. Ever heard of bisexuality, Goro?”

Goro slowly nodded again. “How fascinating. This can’t possibly be hell if I’m here with you.”

Akira shuddered. “P- Purgatory then?”

Goro hummed a ‘maybe’ before sliding his hands down and pushing Akira back down onto the couch. He climbed on him and straddled his thighs. He rubbed his hands up and down Akira’s chest, down to his waist, and then settled his hands onto Akira’s shoulders. “Broad too. Do you work out? We should work out together.”

“...Is there even any point?” 

“I suppose not,” he cheerfully supplied before unbuttoning Akira’s shirt deftly.

Akira just sat there, arms laid out at his side but he truly didn’t mind Goro unbuttoning his shirt. He’s no virgin. He’s sure Goro is. He doesn’t really care. His thoughts were swarming him too much. This is the cost of his hubris. Goro may be in some weird manic episode at the moment, however Akira was realizing that this isn’t purgatory. 

There’s no hope here, just hell.

He allowed Goro slide off his button up and then begin leaving sloppy kisses all over his neck. He sucked at one spot and Akira tilted his head back slightly with a sigh. How did things end up here? Was he truly so awful that he’s now letting the prideful man suckle at his neck like some sort of leech?

This is most likely Goro coping. He feels like this boy would normally not submit to anybody, yet here he is like a mewling puppy. Akira felt the energy drain out of his body with every kiss, as if Goro was a vampire who sucked not only blood but Akira’s entire life right out of him.

Oh wait, he can’t.

He’s dead.

Dead. 

Dead.

Not alive.

Dead dead dead dead dead dead dead dead deadeadeadeaddeadeaddeaddead dead.

Something warm enveloped his dick. He gasped, eyes widening and his hands immediately reaching forward to grab onto whatever was in front of him which coincidentally was Goro’s hair. It was quite soft, actually. He tightened his grip before he actually realization what the fuck was happening.

Goro Akechi was blowing him. Jesus, when did that happen?

Ah fuck, might as well enjoy the ride. Ha. Haha.

He tilted his head back, sighing. Goro wasn’t really good at this, but a blowjob is a blowjob. Goro swirled his tongue around his tip, hand at the base and stroked him where he couldn’t reach. It had no rhythm, but he felt himself bucking his hips anyway and getting a sick satisfaction from Goro gagging violently around his dick. He gripped tighter onto Akechi, yanking onto his long, caramel colored strands of hair. Goro whined.

“G- God!” Akira stuttered. “Who would’ve thought you’d be such an obedient little th-” Akira was cut off by Goro bobbing his head quicker. Akira let himself be cut off, moaning once more.

Maybe...Just maybe...This isn’t hell. Maybe Goro was right.

His stomach was in a tight coil and he felt himself growing closer. He let himself buck and twist and whine as he grew closer and closer. “I’m c- close!”

Then Goro popped off. Akira groaned, glaring at Goro who gave his tip a quick smooch before quickly unbuttoning his shirt and kicking off his boxers and pants. “There’s no lube, so I suppose your precome will have to do.”

Akira gaped. “That will  _ not  _ feel good-”

“I don’t usually bottom either. Take this as you will,” was all Goro said before straddling Akira once again and lowering himself down on his cock.

Akira immediately gripped onto Goro’s hips with a sharp intake of breath. Goro was unbelievably tight and this shouldn’t be working at all because Goro just said he doesn’t bottom and he didn’t finger himself.

“You seem like- ah- like you’d be a virgin.”

Goro paused in his ministrations, hands braced on Akira’s chest. “How would you know?” He sniffed. “I’m slightly insulted.”

“...You said you had no friends.”

“Yes, well, that doesn’t equate to-” Goro took him to the base. “Fuckbuddies, does it?”

Akira’s grip on Goro’s hips tightened. “N- No, I guess  _ not.”  _ Goro slowly rose again. The friction on his cock was absolutely wonderful. Goro was quite beautiful himself, shaggy brown hair cascading down his sharp collarbones and his muscular biceps bracing himself as he bounced on Akira’s cock. 

“You n- normally fuck strangers, ah, then?”

Goro leaned back, hands now braced on Akira’s thighs. Akira bucked his hips up, Goro losing balance and having to fall onto Akira’s chest again. He kissed it. “Do you?” He shot back. His voice was so leveled, Akira wouldn’t believe he was being fucked except he’s the one fucking him.

“No, n- not reallY-” 

Goro thumbed at a nipple. “I murdered people. More people than you have...Does that scare you? Worry you?” He nibbled Akira’s ear. “Or does it...arouse you?”

Akira groaned and he felt Goro tighten around him. Goro chuckled, breathy and airy yet so, so guttural. “Hm? Does it?” He rocked his hips, circling and grinding faster. “I got pleasure from it too! Oh, a step closer to ruining the man who ruined me. You were right earlier, you know- how I honestly cannot just not agree with The Phantoms. You’re no. better. than. Me.” 

Akira bucked up again and he just felt himself get closer. He removed one hand from Goro’s hip to stroke his cock. Goro whined loudly and began speeding up. Sweat trickled down Akira’s forehead and Goro’s hip felt sweaty from it as well. 

“I-I’m close,” panted Akira.

Goro grinded faster, not responding.

Akira came first, but Goro kept going and grinding against his sensitive cock. Akira went faster in his ministrations, jerking Goro off until his hips stuttered and he threw his head back and loudly moaned, cumming all over Akira’s stomach. 

When Goro climbed off of him, he didn’t make any other movements and instead slouched in the seat next to Akira. Both completely naked with drying cum and softening dicks. Akira could almost laugh. If you told him this was the afterlife, he’d laugh until he was sobbing and rolling on the floor. 

After a couple moments of them gathering their breathing, Goro finally rose to his feet and staggered over to the rotary phone, dialling it. Akira sat up straighter. “Woah, what are you doing?” He looked down at Goro’s ass. It was muscular, but it was no doubt big for a boy. 

“We need clothes, duh.”

Akira wanted to argue that they were naked, but if Igor has seen him murder than he’s probably seen him naked.

“Oh! You’ve picked up. Yes, can you supply us- Oh? You’re already here?”

_ Knock knock. _

Goro set the phone down and cracked the door open, clothes were shoved in and the door was shut just as quickly. Goro stared at the door blankly for a couple moments before throwing Akira’s change of clothes at him--the same clothes he died in. Just a simple button up and his jeans. 

They had changed quickly, Goro already in his uniform again sans gloves and shoes and he slumped against Akira’s shoulder at their spot on the couch. Akira paid him no mind, staring blankly ahead at the ugly chartreuse wall. He wasn’t tired anymore, but yet he was. Goro curled up into his side, grabbing Akira’s hand, tracing his finger along his palm before interlacing their fingers together.

“No...I don’t believe this is hell at all,” Goro whispered. “You are quite wrong, Akira Kurusu. This possibly cannot be hell at all.”

Akira rubbed the sleep out of an eye with his free hand. “Why is that?”

“This is the one place where nobody can leave me. You’re  _ stuck  _ with me,” giggled Goro. “Forever and ever.”

“Forever…” Akira shook his head, yet still continued to not even look at Goro who simply snuggled deeper into his side. “That’s a strong word.”

Stroke. Stroke. Stroke. Goro just kept stroking and caressing Akira’s arm and squeezing his hand. Akira snatched his hand back, standing up. “Do you have attachment issues or something? We just met and we’ve fucked and now you’re cuddling me.”

Goro tilted his head. “Is it not normal to cuddle after sex?”

“You- I-”

Goro frowned, brows furrowing. “I see.” He stood up as well. “You’re just like the others- wanting to leave me. Using me and then leaving.” 

“Goro. We- We’ve been here for maybe a day? Calm down, I-”

Goro’s face screwed up. “Shut up! Don’t act like you’re- like you’re the calm and rational one here, so shut the fuck up!”

Akira shut up.

“Stop arguing with me, stop acting like you’re better than me!”

“I’m not-”

“I’ve died without winning! I  _ lost. _ ” Goro moaned, rubbing at his face frantically and tugging so harshly at his hair Akira was sure he was about to yank it out. “I’m a disgrace to the world who keeps losing. And losing. And losing and losing and losing! I can’t fucking take it anymore. You FUCKED IT ALL UP!”

Akira took a staggering step back. So, this is where Goro finally snaps. It wasn’t at the sex then. “I didn’t ruin anything. You ruined your own sorry little life.”

“Shut up before I fucking KILL you!”

“....Already dead.”

Goro growled, scratching his arms frantically with well manicured nails. No blood was drawn, however, which makes Akira wonder exactly how bodily fluids work in hell. “I worked so hard my entire life to prove the world wrong, I’m not some useless piece of garbage, but then you ruined it! I was fucking killed because you stopped my job!”

“That’s not my fault, you bastard-”

Goro ran to one of the end stands-- why was there a  _ knife?  _ Where did it come from?

“I will  _ kill you!”  _ Goro lunged forward knife in hand. He stabbed and stabbed and stabbed into Akira’s torso.

Akra didn’t feel anything. The knife slid in and out without any blood, but maybe this was a therapeutic process for Goro. He didn’t know how long Goro continued to stab him. He didn’t truly know how long he’s been here in this room either. 

Finally, Goro dropped the knife and his matted hair fell in his face. Akira sighed from his position on the rough and itchy carpet. Goro was straddling Akira’s waist, hands hanging limply at his side. His voice cracked once he finally spoke up, “we’re stuck here.”

“...Yeah.”

“For eternity.”

“...Yeah.”

Goro chuckled without a hint of humor. “How...unnerving.”

“...yeah.”

He sniffled before collapsing against Akira’s chest. Akira let him. He shuddered and sobbed, snotting all over Akira and wetting and dirtying his shirt once again. Akira sighed, the sheer hopelessness of his situation overwhelming him. He truly was never God, or anything special. He was just like Goro. Pathetic and arrogant and foolish. 

Akira lifted his hand, smoothing out Goro’s hair and running his fingers through it as Goro cried out and sobbed.

“We’re stuck here forever and ever and ever.”

“...Yeah.”

Goro chuckled, muffled from the position of his face shoved in the crook of his neck. He was still crying despite the dry laugh. “How funny. How hopeless. How deserving.”

“For ever, and ever, and ever.” Akira dropped his hand from Goro’s hair. He felt numb. Nothing was left, just this for the rest of eternity. What a fitting end for a boy who believed himself to be God by playing around with a few lives. “Well, well, let’s get on with it…”

**Author's Note:**

> twt: @akechisthickass  
> tumbkr: @akechisthickass  
> main tumblr: @a-failed-exorcism


End file.
